


Divergence

by Eastonia, ThreeBlackCats



Series: Renegade-Verse [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DC Elseworlds, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And of course Tuesdays are the deadliest of days, Bruce cannot catch a break, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sometimes it's self inflicted, but this time things change, something sinister this way comes, the alley way scene again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23441896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eastonia/pseuds/Eastonia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeBlackCats/pseuds/ThreeBlackCats
Summary: One change sets off a whole series of others, altering the entire world.A series of shorts following Bruce Wayne as he grows up and somehow always has a gun pointed at him. Guess it must be a Tuesday.(First in the Renegade-Verse Series)
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Martha Wayne & Thomas Wayne, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent & Bruce Wayne, Martha Wayne/Thomas Wayne
Series: Renegade-Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686388
Comments: 28
Kudos: 74





	1. A Butterfly Flaps

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to the Renegade-verse. This idea started in a discord server several months ago and has since grown legs, wings, and wandered completely out of control. The idea comes from the sort of Bruce was never Batman stories you see crop up now and again and has turned into a whole DC else-world. The two of us (Eastonia and ThreeBlackCats) have timeline and several arcs planned and are hoping to (one day) get this whole thing written.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has helped and encouraged this idea along the way. To the people on discord who helped with the initial idea, to SeekingXanadu, our beta on tumblr, to everyone who has expressed interest in what we are working on.
> 
> We hope to update biweekly (like a comic book!) but during this time of lockdown we will try for weekly updates before tapering off to our planned biweekly.
> 
> We begin with the first change that started off all the others...

“That was so cool! And Zorro moves so quickly! He just goes- Swish! Swish!” Bruce jumped up and waved his arm around to represent a sword. His eyes were bright as he playfully lunged towards his parents. Thomas gave a stab back in his direction and he sprung backwards. “He completely scared all the bad guys, even in the movie where he didn’t speak! I didn’t know you could scare people that badly without saying anything!”

“It’s called having an intimidating presence.” Martha Wayne reached over to ruffle her son’s hair with a little laugh. “I’m glad you liked it. The Mark of Zorro is a classic.”

“And to think,” Thomas Wayne smiled. “You thought going to a marathon ending with a silent film would be boring.”

“I did not!” Bruce huffed as he settled down a little.

The family made their way down Park Row away from the theatre. They had walked far enough that they were out of the main crowd that was spilling from the theatre. Bruce swung his arm around again, trying to replicate how Zorro would swing his sword to make his iconic ‘Z.’ He hadn’t been sure what his parents were thinking when they told him that they were going to see a bunch of old films for the evening but how often did you get the chance to see three films in a row? It also sounded like it would be a lot more fun than the galas they often had to attend so he had agreed with minimal complaining. His parents told him those galas were about helping people but Bruce didn’t understand how standing around and talking helped people. You helped people by _doing_ something. Dad was able to help people every day when he went to work by helping fix their bodies. That was _doing_.

Zorro helped by doing. He fought the corrupt and helped those less fortunate. Zorro was so cool! Bruce wondered if he should take up fencing.

“I parked the car a couple of streets over. If we cut down this alley,” Thomas gestured around a dark corner. “We can get there quickly.”

“Really, Thomas? Are you sure that is safe?” Martha frowned as she peered down the looming shadows of the alley.

“Of course! I already had to cut through it once to get to the theatre before the first film started after dropping you two off. You’d think there would be more parking around here but…”

Bruce wasn’t paying any attention. He was wondering if there were heroes like Zorro out there today. Someone cool with a sword who went out at night and stabbed criminals. Or just slashed them. He did flips and stuff and fought for the _good guys_. With that awesome sword and whip and – Martha reached out and grabbed him to keep Bruce from wandering off as he imagined he was fighting imaginary swordsmen.

The Wayne family turned into a dark alley, away from the last of the theatre crowd. The sun had long since set while they were in the theatre and the only light that spilled into the alley came from a street lamp at the other end. The garbage bags had not been piled as high in the early afternoon. The family walking down the alleyway didn’t see the man staking out the exit. At least, not until he jumped up and pointed a gun at them.

He was backlit by the streetlight so it was hard to get a good look at his face but the gun, held out, reached out of the shadows and glittered in the light. The Wayne family froze, staring at the figure in front of them. Thomas slowly moved forward. Martha gripped her bag tighter. Bruce just stood there staring at the gun.

“Hand over the purse.”

“There is no need to threaten us. We just want to pass through.” Thomas was now standing in front of his family, subtly blocking Martha and Bruce from view.

“The purse.” Demanded the hoarse voice yet again. 

“Threatening someone isn’t a very good way to get them to do what you want-“

“Thomas. Leave it be.” Martha gave her husband a stern look as her eyes darted back towards the gun. She stepped up beside Thomas and held her belongings out. “Here it is.”

The man started to reach for the purse but his hand stopped partway out. “Are those pearls real?”

Martha let out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

“Put the purse on the ground and take those off.”

“Martha you don’t have to- “

“Shut up Thomas.” Hesitantly, she reached for the clasp and unstrung the pearls, dropping them on the ground beside the purse. She backed up slowly.

For a moment there was quiet. Then the man lunged forward, grabbing the pearls and the purse. Then he was running down to the other end of the alley, passing under the streetlamp. Then he was gone.

And the Wayne family was standing there. For a brief moment there was silence then Thomas grabbed his wife and son and held on to them tight.

“Oh god, oh my god. It’s okay. We’re okay. Oh god.”

“The police,” Martha whispered. “We need to call the police. My mobile phone was in my purse, Thomas- “

“I’ve got it.” He took one hand off of Bruce but kept the other on Martha, who was now holding Bruce. A moment later he started talking on the phone but Bruce didn’t process what was being said.

“Mom, that man had a gun.”

“He did, honey. It’s alright, we’re fine now.”

Bruce had never seen a gun in real life before. The shock of suddenly having one pointed at him chilled him. 

It had looked like the guns in the movies, except for the crucial difference that Bruce had been very aware that it could kill him. It had been pointed right at them! He had been standing only a few paces away!

The family made their way back out of the alley and to the main street. Not many people were walking down it at this time of night but those that were continued on their way, not paying the Waynes any mind. As though someone hadn’t just pointed a  _ gun _ at them. Would they have noticed if the man had pulled the trigger. If-He had-

“How are you doing, Bruce?” Thomas was now crouching down in front of him. He had gotten off the phone at some point.

“I’m fine.” Bruce could have died. It seemed odd that the thought was only occurring to him now a minute later. “The police will catch him right?”

“I’m sure they will, kiddo.”

At that moment a police car swung around the corner, sirens wailing. It pulled up at the sidewalk behind the Waynes and a couple of men got out.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, I’m Detective James Gordon and this is Officer Bullock. Could you please tell us what happened…”


	2. Vacation Astrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's vacation gets interrupted

When those with time and money wanted to escape Gotham while still remaining in the area, in case something came up and they would have to hurry home - there were two places they went. 

Most went across the bay to Metropolis, a city with a number of tourist attractions, shopping possibilities, and a reasonable crime rate. But those who preferred the wilderness headed inland to the foothills of the mountains. And wilderness lovers who had enough money went to Brock’s Extreme Resort. It had started fifteen years ago when a group of men, headed by the aforementioned Brock, started running rock-climbing trips and had somehow acquired an extensive property in the eastern foothills of the Appalachians. The property included a zip-line, a few high ropes courses of varying degrees of difficulty, several gyms, a ski slope for the winter, a spa, a stable for horseback riding, a motorcross track, and of course, many steep cliffs for the more adventurous climbers. In summary, everything a rich Gothamite could possibly want to experience on a break from boardrooms or classrooms in the city.

The Wayne family made regular weekend trips up there when they weren’t too busy with various charity functions or work. Bruce always looked forward to them, especially in the summer months when he could do some climbing or zip around the motor cross track. But Thomas had turned on the radio on the drive out and the weathermen on GCN had issued several warnings about incoming rain clouds that had made him a bit worried that this weekend wouldn’t be as fun as the others. He had been excited to wake up early this Saturday morning and see the sun shining in spite of the poor predictions of the forecasters.

Unfortunately, the sun was a lying jerk and it was raining. Sun showers.

So Bruce was stuck climbing the wall in the inside gym while the lying sun streamed through the skylight; hoping Harvey Dent, whose family had also made the trip to the mountains, would change the topic.

“I’m just saying,” Harvey called over from his side of the wall. “You did a good job in debate club.”

“I made Colin McKenzie cry. He asked for it for defending homeopathy but I know that is not the goal of a debate. Or a court case.” Bruce lifted his foot up to reach another foothold. “Why are you bringing this up now, of all times? There’s plenty of time between now and graduation when we aren’t in the middle of climbing!”

“That is the kind of skill that could win over a courtroom Bruce! You know how to make your points and make them well!"

"At least until I'm held in contempt of court for- I don't know making the witness cry?"

"Actually, you'd make the judge cry."

"Then why are you asking me?"

There was a stretch of silence. Bruce looked down and noticed that Harvey wasn’t climbing as fast as him and was starting to fall behind. Maybe if he climbed fast enough he could outpace this conversation but for now he was stuck in it. He reached up again. "You think making the judge cry might be a good thing, don't you?"

“It's hard to be impartial when you're moved to tears."

"I think making the judge cry would make us less likely to get a ruling in our favour." Bruce was getting really close to the top. The handholds were farther apart up here. If he could just reach-

"But! You're contemplating it now!" Harvey was so caught up in his excitement over getting the last word that he misplaced his foot and had to catch himself against the wall before he fell.

Bruce reached up and smacked the top of the wall before pushing off to rappel back down. Okay, he was thinking about it now. The idea of defending people who couldn’t defend themselves was appealing but he had a hard time picturing himself wearing a full suit day in and day out. Something about wearing a tie was so stifling. That was probably what the weekend was for. He landed back down next to Ricky Martinez, a long time employee of Brock’s Extreme Resort, who had had the other end of Bruce’s belay and began to take off his harness.

“Ah, to be young,” Ricky sighed. “And to have so many possibilities and so much life ahead of you.”

“That doesn’t mean I need to make a decision now.”

“No it doesn’t. I’m just reminiscing from when I was young.”

Ricky had a far-away look in his eye and a smile on his face. “Do you think you made the right decision?” Bruce asked.

“Not at first, the years stuck behind a counter in a bank weren’t great. But the decision to come out here and get a job where I can exercise and am surrounded by nature? That was probably the best decision I ever made.” He frowned. “I’d probably take back the terrible diet too. I’ve been having heart problems and if that could fix it I would definitely change it no matter how good French fries are.”

Bruce let out a small laugh and set his helmet on the ground. Behind him he heard a thump as Harvey reached the ground as well. “Better health is always a good idea.”

“And so is being a lawyer! An excellent idea!” Harvey took off his helmet and started waving it around. “Helping people! A decent income!”

“I’m heir to a billion-dollar fortune and your family is pretty well off too.”

“Well, it’s hardly a downside is it?”

“Alright,” Mr. Hughes, who would not hear of being called anything other than Mr. Hughes even though most of the other staff didn’t mind going by their first names, spoke up. “This conversation can continue later. Right now you two need to finish getting your harnesses off and put them away. Mr. Martinez and I have other guests to help.”

“And if we want to climb one more time?”

“You’ve already climbed one more time, Mr. Dent.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like there is anyone else waiting.” He gestured to the empty gym. “We could go again.”

“It’s lunchtime.”

The group began to make their way towards the gym locker room when there was a sudden crash from the ceiling. Bruce spun around and was shocked to see two people rappelling down from the now broken skylight in jumpsuits, carrying….Yep, those were guns. The pair hit the ground and pointed their guns toward the group.

“Nobody move! Put your hands up! I’m talking to you!” The figure in front swung his gun around to point to Bruce’s left. Bruce glanced behind him and noticed that Mr. Hughes had started shuffling over to the emergency phone in the wall. With the gun trained on him he stopped and stuck his hands in the air. The rest of the group slowly raised their hands too.

The second figure stepped forward so she was standing beside her companion. “Now, nobody has to get hurt. We’re just going to take Bruce here,” She focused her gun more clearly on Bruce. “With us. You can call the police after we’re gone.”

Harvey let out a strangled noise. “No you can’t! We, uh, we- We won’t let you.”

“Right. Which of us has guns? We do. Don’t try to be a hero.” Harvey remained quiet. “That’s what I thought. Now just come over here, Bruce.”

Bruce absolutely did not want to go over to them. But they were pointing guns at them. He tried to cast his mind back to anything his self defense teachers had taught him that had to do with guns specifically. If he got close to them he might be able to do something. He couldn’t let them get him out of here though if they took him to another location then-

Wait, they came in through the skylight. How were they planning on getting him out of here?

“Come on now. We don’t have all day and I really don’t want to use this.”

Bruce started shuffling forward. “Okay, I’m coming. If you don’t mind me asking though…”

“Yes, we will let your friends go unharmed once we get you in the helicopter.”

“That partially answers my question. How are you getting me out of here and to the helicopter?”

The two criminals looked at each other. Unfortunately, they didn’t lower their guns.

“We have ropes,” The one on the left answered when it became apparent her companion wasn’t going to.

“No, really, I want to know. How are you going to get me up through the skylight? You only have two ropes.” Bruce really hoped they didn’t come up with a solution before he got within grabbing distance.

Thankfully, as Bruce closed the distance they didn’t seem to have an answer despite aggressively trying to communicate with one another through eye contact and facial expression. Unfortunately, they still had their guns pointed at the others even though they weren’t looking at them. A quick glance over his shoulder told Bruce that no one moved. No one wanted to risk them turning back around and taking a shot.

“Okay. If you’re going to be that way, we’ll use my rope.” The gunman on the right reached down to undo the rope attached to his waist, lowering his gun in the process.

Bruce pounced.

He moved swiftly into the reach of the nearest gunman and made a hard strike at his wrist. Behind him Harvey took the chance to spring forward and wrestle the other one to the ground as the gun dropped with a clatter.

Bruce kicked the nearest gun away while all of a sudden the others moved to action, rushing to help them.

Bruce turned into the gunman, kicking his knees forward and wrenching the arms back in a painful, locking hold. 

Harvey managed to wrench the other gun away, but not without it firing. Glass shattered and fell down from the skylight. The sound of the helicopter faded as the pilot, sensing a change in the plan, took off, leaving the two would-be kidnappers behind.

Ricky came around to sit on Bruce’s guy as Mr. Hughes took some of the ropes and came around to hog-tie Harvey’s. Bruce let out a breath once they had been restrained. 

That was close.

“Right.” Mr. Hughes stood up. “I’m going to call the cops to report this so they can take these two away. Keep an eye on them.” He abruptly turned around and walked back over to the emergency phone, the only sign that any of this was slightly out of the ordinary was the stiffness of his posture.

Harvey picked up the guns and moved them over to the base of the climbing wall, far away from where the now tied up criminals would be able to reach them. Bruce kept a hand on the woman while Ricky held on to the man. They were already tied up but they didn’t want them trying to run off as well. 

Now that the danger had passed Bruce could feel the adrenaline fading from his body as he sat down next to the woman. She was grumbling under her breath but Bruce was too busy processing what had just happened. He knew Gotham was dangerous. He knew that his family were often targets due to their wealth and position. He hadn’t expected people to follow them out here to the mountains to try and get them. Those self defense lessons had paid off. Next to him Ricky also looked shocked, his face was pale and he was….having trouble breathing?

“Ricky? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” The corners of Ricky’s month twitched up but it looked forced. “I just…” His hand went up to his chest as he winced. “Ow…” Then he collapsed. His face looked pale and grey, his expression was one of impending doom. Cold sweat beaded on Ricky’s forehead.

Bruce jumped up suddenly on high alert again as he rushed over to him. Shortness of breath...chest pain… quickly he felt for the heart beat at his neck, the rhythm was severely random... oh no. Bruce checked quickly in Ricky’s pocket for a pill - nothing. He yelled “Harvey! Get a portable AED! And call 911! Tell them it's a potential cardiac arrest at Brock’s Extreme Resort!”

“I’ve got it!” Mr. Hughes called. “I’m already calling the police! Keep an eye on the prisoners!”

“Okay then.” Bruce made sure Ricky was lying on his back. He glanced towards his friend and barked, “Harvey, watch me! I'm going to do 30 chest compressions. Watch how low I go and be ready to swap with me. I've checked his airway, he's clear. Whenever I reach 30, give him 2 deep breaths.” He began to push down, counting in his head. When Mr. Hughes came back over he turned to him. “GIVE ME ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST! Harvey, watch the rhythm I'm going for.”

A tense period passed,as the Queen anthem played. Harvey and Bruce swapped a couple of times before the portable AED arrived. By the time professional help had arrived, the two teens were absolutely  _ exhausted _ . The paramedics checked Ricky over and loaded him up to take to a hospital for further treatment.

The female ambulance driver smiled, “Good job son.” as she patted Bruce on the shoulder before clambering back into the vehicle. Finally, Bruce allowed himself to sink backwards and let out a sigh of relief.

Harvey collapsed next to him. "I can't believe you saved his life"

"I took first aid. Dude, it's literally just basic CPR." He pointed a lazy finger over in the direction of the AED. “And use of that portable defibrillator. And keeping him going till the professionals arrived.”

"Don't say that like it's not impressive. Oh jeez. Scratch the lawyer idea. If I ever get attacked by vengeful criminal I want you to be my doctor"

Bruce frowned. "What kind of career are you planning where vengeful criminals are coming after you?"

"An effective one." Harvey should not have looked so satisfied by that.

The two tied up criminals, without anyone pinning them down, were now sitting up, too enraptured by the drama unfolding in front of them to think of trying to run away.

“First he fights us off, then he saves a guy’s life. Who is this kid, some kind of superhero?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Ricky had was arrhythmia, not an MI. It's not advisable to use a defibrillator on an MI


	3. Comic Con Rumble- Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once the guns being pointed at Bruce are entirely his fault?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Real life and frozen shoulders caused the schedule to slip a bit but we're back- and with a double update! This chapter got really long so we ended up having to split it down the middle.
> 
> This chapter was highly inspired by the World of Warcraft movie promotional capture the flag event

“Hello GC3 attendees! This is Monica from id Software! This is just a reminder that we have one really great Final Doom event coming up at 2 o’clock! We need some of you lovely folks to come on down and take part! It’s a chance to get active and have fun! See you there!” 

Bruce slid into the room on the second floor of the Burnside Convention Center. The room was already half full of other convention attendees excited for the event. Most of them were standing in small groups with their friends, chatting excitedly. Bruce was one of a few people who was by themselves. There was a guy in a bright red University of Metropolis sweater and glasses in the far corner writing on a notepad, a girl in a Princess Peach dress, and a guy in what had to be the laziest cosplay of Red from the Pokémon games that Bruce had ever seen.

He didn’t really have much space to criticize low effort cosplay though. He was wearing grey pants, a grey hoodie, and a pair of dark sunglasses that were supposed to represent a mask. It was far from the brightest outfit in the room, though there had been a bunch of people at the Grey Ghost panel that morning dressed similarly.

Bruce checked his watch. Five minutes until this event was supposed to begin. He reached into his pocket and took out his pager. He had been incredibly aware of it throughout the entire morning and sure enough, still no messages. He reminded himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Jameson deserved a day off from following Bruce around. He was a good bodyguard but that had to be exhausting. Once he realized that Bruce wasn’t in the Kane Library or anywhere on the Gotham University main campus at all he could take a break downtown. Bruce had left a note for him telling him he would be in a number of different, and secure, locations over the course of the day so he should realize he hadn’t been kidnapped. And no one else knew he was here so there was no chance of anyone trying to take him just because he was Bruce Wayne. As far as anyone here was concerned he was just another nerd in a low budget Grey Ghost cosplay.

It was liberating in a way. No obligations, no worries about someone trying to point a gun at him to make his parents give them money. It was great.

It occurred to Bruce that while he was appreciating the lack of actual guns he was in the process of walking towards a bunch of fake guns. Well, at least no would be shooting at him because he was “Bruce Wayne.”

He leaned against the wall next to the promotional poster announcing the partnership Final Doom had made with Hasbro Toys for “A Chance to Get a Gameplay-like Experience in Real Life!” It was one of the more out there promotional ideas they had come up with, but Bruce wasn’t complaining when he had the chance to spend an afternoon having fun and getting some exercise.

A door in the far wall leading off to a different room opened up. A woman wearing a Doom t-shirt with dark curly hair pulled back in a bun came through. She looked around at the gathered people before putting on a bright smile. “Come on in, guys! This is going to be great!”

Bruce tagged along at the end of the group as they went through the door. There was a bit of halt as the first people through the door stopped, and started excitedly talking, but the organizer ushered them onwards. When Bruce caught a glimpse of what had taken them aback he pushed forward through the crowd to get a better look. They had set up a room the size of a high school gym. A couple of flags on poles that were twice Bruce’s height had been set up at either end of the field. Walls and piles were scattered across the field. Along the near wall were some tables with Nerf guns and helmets, and a small podium. The organizer waved her hand to invite them all over and stood at the microphone.

“Hello, everyone! Are you guys having a good time here at G-C-3?” The group let out a cheer. “That’s great. I’m Monica from id Software and today we are going to be playing….Capture the Flag! Final Doom style!”

“So here are the rules,” The organizer looked down at her clipboard. “We are going to divide you into two teams, red and blue. Each of you has a flag on your side that you need to defend. The goal is to get your opponents flag across the field to the back wall of your side of the field. Your weapons- which have been provided by Hasbro Toys check out their product line at any store today- are nerf guns with foam bullets. Extra bullets are scattered around the field and you can pick up already fired bullets to be used again. They’re foam so they shouldn’t hurt but no shooting at the face in close range. Helmets will be provided. I assume you all have already signed the waivers?” Everyone nodded. “Good. Helmets and nerf guns are on that table over there. Please go grab some”

Bruce headed over to the table and picked up a black nerf gun. May as well continue with his whole monochrome aesthetic right now. He grabbed a helmet and put it on as he made his way back towards the main area they had been gathered in. He was grabbed by a volunteer and sent towards the blue side. Once everyone had their equipment and was divided the organizer continued giving instructions.

“Okay, for each team we are going to pick a team captain in a bit. The team captains will organize team strategy and make sure that everyone is working together. In addition to all the standard capture the flag elements, we’ve added a special surprise to make this more interesting.” She gave a small smile. “I won’t spoil what it is but keep an eye out for something small and metallic on the field and something hidden in the jail zone.

“Speaking of- the jail zone is along that wall over there. That’s where you go once you’ve been hit. You see that target up above it? If you can hit that then everyone gets to come back into play- from your team and your opponents.

“Did you guys understand all that?” The gathered teams let out a cheer. “Great! Are you _ready_? Then _let’s_ _get started_!” There was an even louder cheer.

“Alright! Let’s do this!” The organizer yelled. “But first, we need a couple volunteers to be team captain.” 

There was a beat of silence before a bunch of people started yelling, clambering to get the honor. Bruce nearly got clocked in the chin by someone’s hand shooting up. The volunteer pointed to him and Bruce had a brief moment of panic that he was going to be dragged in front of everyone before he realized she was pointing behind him. The guy with the laziest ever Red cosplay pushed past him and went up to the front. Another young woman had been called up from the other side of the crowd.

The organizers divided the people in the room in two, keeping one team captain on each side. Blue armbands were quickly passed around and Bruce tied his to his upper arm before making his way to the blue side of the field.

The field was a wide open area with seven foot high walls scattered around. A line had been marked down the center with bright green tape. Placed seemingly at random around the walls were stacks of foam bullets for the nerf guns. At each end of the field was a mound of blocks with a tall flagpole on top of it. On Bruce’s side the flag was blue, on the other side it was red.

Bruce looked over the red team. Most of them were around his age and no one appeared to be any kind of athlete. Fairly typical GC3 attendees. He looked back to his fellow team members. Mostly the same but...there was that guy in the Metropolis University sweater. He was just barely taller than Bruce, with wide shoulders. Hopefully that bulk wouldn’t make him too much of a target.

“Are you ready?” The announcer was back on the intercom. “Captains! Address your teams and come up with a plan!” The entirety of the blue team turned to the captain who was standing at the base of the block mound, huddling up close around it.

“Right, so we’re going to do this! It’s going to be great!” The team captain gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Just give it your all!”

_ That’s not a plan, _ Bruce thought.

“Ready…” They broke up from their huddle and scrambled to hide behind some of the walls scattered across the field, clutching their guns.

“Set…” Bruce peeked around the corner to look at the other side. The other team also appeared to just be hiding behind their walls. He couldn’t see them.

“Go!”

At once the other side burst out from behind their walls. Most of them had been hidden behind the walls closest to the line and they stormed over it. Bruce’s team instantly found themselves put on the defensive. It seemed that the other side at least had succeeded in making a plan. Bruce was able to lean around the corner and let off a few shots at the other side before ducking back behind shelter. Thankfully, there were some extra foam bullets back there with him.

Bruce’s wall was located relatively near the middle of their side of the field so they wouldn’t get to him right away. Behind this wall they wouldn’t be able to see him. Most of his teammates had started firing on them right away but they had been taken off guard and were being pushed back. If he just stayed here and was quiet they would probably walk right past him. And he would have time to reload.

And sure enough after a couple of minutes they did. Bruce sprung out at them from the side. He let off a round of foam pellets and managed to hit most of his opponents before- smack!

“Oh shit. I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, dude.”

“It’s fine. That’s what the helmets are for.” Bruce could already feel a bruise forming on his cheek. He followed the people he had hit over to the jail area. He noticed that most of his team had already been sent to jail, but thankfully the frontal assault had resulted in most of the opposing team being stuck here too. Metropolis University guy had also been hit and Bruce sat down next to him on the bench for their team.

After their first major strike the red team had taken enough casualties that they were forced to retreat back to their own side of the field. There were only a few people left from each team still out there, and they were crouched behind their walls occasionally leaning out to try getting off a few shots. After several minutes it was apparent that neither side had any idea what to do after the initial burst of conflict.

Bruce was utterly bored. There went his plan for having some fun physical activity for the afternoon. Maybe if they had made an actual plan this would have gone better. Where was their team captain anyway? He looked around. Oh, there he was, at the far end of the jail bench. He glanced up at the button someone would need to hit to get them out. No one even seemed to be trying to hit it.

An actual plan. Bruce looked over the field. Most of the walls had been set up scattered around the centre but there were a series of them along the left wall that provided a decent amount of cover. Not a lot of people were over there because it was so far to the side. It even stretched along most of the wall. If you group of people used that cover to try and sneak around…

“Man, sitting out on the game sucks.”

“I’m sorry?” Bruce jolted up and turned to look at the guy sitting next to him. “Were you saying something?”

“Oh, just commenting that sitting on the sidelines like this is ridiculously boring. Not what I was expecting when I signed up for this.” Metropolis U sweatshirt shrugged. “But here we are.”

Bruce nodded with a sigh - glancing around the ‘jail’ area of the arena. The Met U glasses guy seemed to stare through him for a second. Something in his expression seemed to come to a snap decision.

“You seemed to be staring out there pretty intensely, did you notice something.”

Bruce sighed. “No one seems to have any kind of plan. The red team tried in the beginning but that just got most of both teams stuck here.” He waved his hand to show the long bench they were stuck on. The girl sitting on his other side had pulled out a rubik's cube and was trying to solve it, no longer paying attention to the game. “You could make the field work for you with a good strategy but no one took the time to think of a plan.”

“Well,” said Glasses Guy. “We didn’t exactly have a lot of time to look the field over and come up with one before the game began and then we were just doing our best.”

“We’re gamers. We should be able to come up with a strategy. That's what video games are about!”

“Except for the ones that are just point and shoot. Also, you usually go through a couple of lives before you figure it out.”

Bruce put his head in his hands. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated.”

Glasses Guy smiled. “It’s alright. If you have such strong opinions about this then what would you suggest we do?”

Bruce pointed out the wall on the left side of the field and explained his thoughts. “A group could sneak around and make their way back to the other side with plenty of cover.”

“They’d still notice when their flag was gone.”

“Then we’d need some kind of distraction. If we could all get off of this bench then we’d have enough people to get the flag and for a distraction.”   
  


Glasses Guy considered him a moment and stood up. “Right. Come with me,” He grabbed Bruce’s arm and led him deeper into the jail. “See there?”

Barely hidden in the dark corner of the prison area was a locked box with a rather obvious padlock on it.

“Only one like it in this whole area.” The guy in glasses said.

“So that’s the special surprise the organizer mentioned.” Bruce muttered. He made a snap decision. “Bruce,” he said as he stuck out his hand.

“Clark.” Glasses guy replied with a smirk as he grasped Bruce’s hand. “What say you that we actually  _ rally _ these guys together and  _ win _ this thing?”

  
“Consider that  _ done _ .” Bruce grinned as they slunk back to the main group.


	4. Comic Con Rumble - part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always remember to get the details of new friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part 2 of a two chapter update! Make sure you've read chapter three first.

Apparently, while they were gone, someone had finally noticed that they  _ could _ get their teammates out of the prison area by shooting that button. 

They didn’t have much time.

“Guys, come on huddle in!” Clark smiled as some hidden charm spilled out of his words, drawing their fellow imprisoned teammates into a circle. Their captain had apparently forgotten that he was team captain and joined the huddle.

Thank goodness for Clark.

Clark got their team organized into two groups behind some of the walls so the other team couldn’t see what they were doing. The larger group would be going with Clark as the distraction to try and just run across the field towards the other side in a frontal assault. Everyone in the larger group were under orders to search for a key. Clark had stationed the one guy that managed to snipe them free in a well protected area, ready to get them out again.

This guy could  _ rally _ . It made Bruce glad that he wasn’t the one trying to hold the attention of this, frankly inattentive, group. Bruce privately admitted that he did not have that inherent charisma needed to pull a team together. Despite practicing his public speaking and trying to mimic what he saw his father doing whenever he was asked to give a speech, Bruce couldn’t help but feel nervous as though they would see through him and realise he was just trying to desperately fake it until he made it. Humans weren’t easily solved problems and Bruce wasn’t sure how to convince them to do stuff.

Hopefully, Clark’s hunch that the box probably contained a shield modeled after the Invulnerability Artifact and a nerf gun modelled after the Holy Water Pistol was right. Having the shield would be a  _ game changer _ . It would keep the red team so occupied that they wouldn’t even notice Bruce and the smaller group sneaking up along the left side to grab the flag without anyone noticing. 

Unfortunately, the other team had apparently huddled up for a rally too. There was a sudden cheer from the other side and the group looked up to see the other team storming across the middle.

“Let’s go! Charge!” Clark yelled as he led his search and distract group to meet the red team. The rest of the stealth turned to look at Bruce. Oh right, he was leading them. He gestured for the others to follow him and they headed out.

They were crouched down so they wouldn’t be seen creeping up but that meant they couldn’t look over the wall to see how things were going. They could hear the occasional laugh, curse, or cheer but there wasn’t much indication about which side was gaining the advantage on the main field. Not that it would matter much if they did their part.

“I’m hit!” Bruce heard Clark exclaim. Bruce could barely see the guy, but somehow he could tell by the metallic glint in his hand and the barely-there smirk on his face, he got it.

The key was theirs - the box was theirs. Bruce nodded at his group to creep forward as a thud and a  _ roar _ of delight echoed from their side of the team.

The red flag was in sight.

They had passed across the line dividing the two sides unnoticed, but there were a few, more hesitant members of the red team hanging back near the flag. As they reached the end of the wall that had been providing them cover they crouched down even further. It probably wouldn’t do much to stop them from being seen if they bothered to turn around but thankfully, they seemed to be absorbed in watching Clark’s distraction team clashing with the majority of the red team. Clark’s team was getting pushed back towards their flag. They would have to hurry.

Bruce gestured to a couple members of his team. “See if you can send them to jail quickly. Everyone else, the moment they do that, run for the flag, then run back the way we came. Hopefully we can get it down there before they realise what is happening.”

They aimed their Nerf guns. The moment the foam bullets flew Bruce lunged forward with the rest of his team behind him for the flag. They climbed up onto the mound without difficulty, and Bruce closed his grip around the flag. He passed the flag down to one of the team members that was lower down. “Get this behind cover and start running.” She held the flag pole close to her chest and sprinted back towards the wall. The rest of the team quickly followed her.

“Hey! They’ve got our flag!”

Once they were behind the wall again they had a fair amount of cover, but already red team members were rushing into the path behind them. A few of them were even trying to shoot over the wall, with minimal success. They kept pushing forward as fast as they could to try to keep ahead of them but a couple of Bruce’s teammates stopped suddenly as they were hit by foam bullets and had to make their way to jail.

Then suddenly…

“Blue team wins! They’ve successfully brought the flag over to their side!”

The woman who Bruce had handed the flag to grinned and stuck it high in the air. Bruce and his team came out from behind cover and instantly were greeted with cheers from the entire blue team.

“That was great!” Clark came up from behind Bruce and thumped him on the back. Despite having been in the middle of things and, presumably having just run over from where he had been guarding their own flag he wasn’t even winded. Meanwhile, Bruce was breathing heavily from the mad sprint back to their side. Athletes.

“That was close,” Bruce corrected. “But we did it.”

“We did it!” Clark yelled and several other people nearby joined in cheering.

The organizers came by to collect the flag and handed out the prize, coupons for more Nerf guns and $10 off any game from id Software, to the entire winning team. Most of the team was congratulating each other and giving off more sporadic cheers. Bruce slipped to the side to drop his gear off before sticking his hand back in his pocket to check the pager again. Still nothing. He had more time but the convention would be winding down for the day. So what should he do?

“Bruce! There you are. I thought you slipped away.” Clark suddenly appeared by Bruce again. He hadn’t noticed during the game but he moved really fast.

  
  


“Well, the event was over. I was just thinking about what I should do next.”

“Cool. I think the Artist’s Alley is still open.” He pulled the notebook he had been writing in before the game out of his pocket. “Before you go though could I get a quote or something about the event.”

“What?” This sort of thing only happened to Bruce when he was at one of his parents fundraising events. Or the person asking was some jerk with a camera who had just popped out of nowhere. But that meant… “Are you a journalist?”

“Yes. Sort of. One day maybe.” Clark shrugged. “I’m enrolled in Metropolis University’s Journalism program and I’m supposed to be writing an article about a major public event for an assignment. I got a bit carried away participating in the event instead.” He held up his notebook and a pen. “So can I get a quote? You can be an anonymous source.”

Bruce smiled. “Better than capture the flag used to go in elementary gym class but randomly choosing team captains out of a crowd was a mistake. The guy who did eventually rally the team, however, did a good job in leading-”

The pager buzzed.

Bruce yanked it back out of his pocket.  _ Where are you? _ The message read. Jameson had figured out he wasn’t in any of the locations he had promised to be. “I’m sorry, I have to go. You can use that quote but I’d prefer to stay anonymous.”

“Okay…” Clark looked up from his notepad. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine. Something just came up.”  _ And now I need to get back to where I’m supposed to be before I get in trouble for “jeopardizing my security,”  _ Bruce thought. “I’ve got to go.”

Bruce rushed off, desperately trying to remember the bus schedule he had looked up this morning. As he boarded the bus he groaned.

Meanwhile, back at Burnside Clark dropped his face into his palms. And as one they muttered.

"Oh man, I forgot to get his details!”


	5. Medicine Practiced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's bad luck with guns follows him abroad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits to Eastonia for her knowledge to get all the details correct

“This way!” Bruce pressed against the side of the hallway as a couple of nurses pushed a cot down the hall. When they had passed, he waved for the gaggle of third year medical students to follow him through one of the nearby doorways.

The Kluang hospital was busy and crowded, which made trying to do a teaching ward round in there a bit difficult. Not to mention the language barrier really didn’t help. Bruce had volunteered to come to Malaysia as part of the budding partnership between Gotham City University and the International Medical University. The experience was valuable, but having to give regular public lectures and teach had been a bit intimidating. He tried to follow his father’s advice that confidence was the first step to being listened to, and drew his shoulders back before turning around to his small group in the tiny visitor’s area being slowly taken over by ward beds.

“Okay gang, before we head in did anyone manage to find anything interesting? Anyone?” Bruce sighed as his group fell silent - no one dared to speak up. “Alright then, so I found a case that I think is compulsory for your log books. I believe you guys are on Infectious Diseases week?” Bruce was met with nods from the medical students.

“As you know, Malaysia is endemic for dengue fever.” He continued, “What can we expect to find during presentation?” He attempted meeting each of their eyes, chuckling inwardly as he remembered doing the  _ exact _ same thing as his students. Namely, not meeting the eyes of the clinical teaching fellow and hoping this somehow caused him to become invisible. It was a simple enough solution.

“Ming Wen!” The gangly, bespectacled student started as Bruce addressed him directly, “Presentation?”

“Um.”

“Go on.”

Ming Wen took a breath and started, “Dengue fever initially is indistinguishable from an URTI - due to coryzal symptoms. It’s important to take the factor of the season into account and whether or not there has been fogging occuring in the area - since Malaysia is endemic.”

Bruce nodded, “Good! Now why is it important that we diagnose dengue as quickly as possible? Hmmm… Joanne!”

“Uhhh… To be ready for supportive treatment and to monitor for progression into Dengue Haemorrhagic Fever?”

“Which is a sign of.... Let’s go with you Imran.”

“Moving into the critical phase?”

“Yup! Now the patient I managed to find is in the recovery phase. So you’ll be able to see a very classical presentation of the recovery rash. This is an excellent opportunity to practice for your upcoming module practical so do we have any volunteers?”

He sighed once again as his students tried once again not to meet his eyes.

“Well okay then, you guys decide amongst yourselves while we find the patient. Actually, Loo Fun can you go grab the screen? Let’s see if we can even attempt to give the man some privacy if he’s amendable.”

Bruce grimaced a little as he squeezed his way into the ward, there was something apprehensive in the air. Or maybe it was just the fact that there were policemen stationed at most of the exits of the ward. Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce saw Rajith grimace and whisper to Ming Wen, “They are treating one of those Mamak gang members here I heard. They’re not taking any chances.”

“Maaf saya.” One of the nurses pushed through their group and everyone shuffled around to let her through into the ward. As she went through the doorway, she let her gaze linger on Bruce for a moment before continuing on. Great. That had been the other reason Bruce had wanted to get experience in a different country. Back in Gotham everyone knew him as the heir to the Wayne fortune, or in the medical community, as the son of the brilliant surgeon Thomas Wayne. He had wanted the chance to get some experience without those expectations hanging over him but it looked like someone had recognized him from the international news. As the nurse went over to the patient (presumably the Mamak Gang member) who was handcuffed to the bed, Bruce turned back to his students, leading them over to the bed. He idly noted that it looked like the screens would not fit well enough to give the man privacy or the students the necessary space to work.

“Okay so remember this is a good opportunity to see where you need to improve before your module practical. It’ll allow you to note whether or not you’ve understood the different differentials and the necessary distinguishing investigato-”

_ Crash! _ “ _ Allah _ !” Bruce swung around to see that the patient who had been handcuffed to the bed had somehow got loose...and had somehow acquired a BB gun. He was shakily standing up and swinging the gun around to point at anyone who seemed like they might try to approach. People tried to back up as quickly as they could only to bump up against the beds and other people. A man in the bed next to the gunman started crying as he tried to shift away.

Bruce made sure he was between himself and his students as they all tried to push backwards. The man swung the gun around and paused when it was pointed in their direction. Bruce could have sworn he smiled as he locked eyes on him.

Thankfully a couple of police officers showed up at that moment, pushing through the crowd of people trying to get away. “ _ DUDUK SITU _ ” One of them yelled as he drew his baton, passing over his gun. “ _ Turun lantai _ !”

Even though he was clearly struggling to stand, the patient smiled. He had stopped when he had seen Bruce, but now he turned to face the police. He screamed something that Bruce didn’t understand. The bb gun was no longer pointing directly at Bruce but was still vaguely aimed in the direction of his group. Bruce didn’t think it would shoot actual bullets but whatever came out of it would still hurt.

Some people had managed to escape down the hallway giving the police more space. They both had batons out and had split up to try and get on either side of the prisoner. Unfortunately, he still had one side of his body pressed against the bed to support himself. As the policemen tried to get closer he finally moved the gun away from Bruce to point it at the one who had gotten closer.

The second one suddenly burst forward the last couple of feet and brought his baton down on the elbow of the gunman’s arm that was holding the gun. The elbow bent down and the gun swung upward.  _ Bang!  _ The other policeman jumped forward as well, tackling him to the ground. A tile fell from the ceiling. The officer who was still standing grabbed the BB gun and used his other hand to stick his baton back into his belt and pull out some handcuffs.

Bruce turned back to his group. “Are all of you alright?” There was a series of mutters and some heads nodding. Everyone seemed fine.

The guards were reattaching the cuffs to the gunman. A police officer came over to Bruce’s group. He pulled out a notebook, rattling off something in Malay.

“I’m sorry um… saya tidak tahu Bahasa Melayu. Boleh Bahasa Inggeris?” The officer looked at him and called over his Indian partner. “You saw everything that happened? Can I get your names and contact information?”

Each of Bruce’s students gave their information and the police officer sent them on their way. Finally, the officer turned to Bruce. “Bruce Wayne.” He sighed and gave his address near campus.

The officer looked up from his notebook. “You’re awfully calm for someone who just had a gun pointed at them.”

“It wasn’t the first time.”

He winced. “Not here, I hope.”

“No. Back home.”

“Let me guess. America?”

“Yes.” Between his accent and America’s reputation regarding guns it wasn’t hard to figure out. “Twice.”

“Twice?!” The officer was shocked. “Wow. Well, hopefully this was the last.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.” If his rotten luck with guns could follow him even to another country Bruce wasn’t going to hold out hope.

The police officer moved on to talk to some of the employees. It occurred to him he would have to tell his parents about this. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jameson arrived in the country within the week.


	6. It's Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another day in Bruce Wayne's life

The crowd in the main ballroom of Wayne Manor was dressed to- not the nines, Gotham high society was too expensive for that- dressed to the tens. The Wayne New Year’s Eve Charity Gala, this year raising money for Gotham General Hospital, was the highlight of the social calendar. Anyone who was anyone made sure to be in attendance. The Wayne family and the various members of the Wayne foundation who put the event together made sure the ballroom was decorated with pieces of artwork from the Wayne collection. A large table was set up along the back wall covered with various finger foods for the guests. The french doors were open allowing people to go out to the balcony.

Bruce had been trying to convince other rich people to part with their money for at least two hours using every argument from tax deductions, good publicity, and just genuine human kindness and he was _exhausted._

He managed to slip out through a side door that was partially hidden behind a large plant. _Just ten minutes._ He told himself. _Ten minutes then I can get back out there._ Once Bruce had found an empty sitting room a good enough distance away from the gala he put his head in his hands and let out a frustrated growl.

Galas had never been Bruce’s favorite events. Standing around and talking had never been Bruce’s idea of productivity. But in order for the Wayne Foundation or Gotham General to do anything actionable they needed money. And the best way to get lots of cash at once to fund them was to stand around and talk.

Earlier that evening his father had pulled him aside and reassured him that he was doing a good job. Bruce imagined anything would have been considered a good job after he had loudly snapped at Mrs. Wheeler, “Do you want people to _die?_ ” seven years ago. She had been wearing a two thousand dollar dress but said that her budget was tight and she just couldn’t donate to the food bank right now. Exaggeration maybe. It had gotten her to cough up a thousand, even if she insisted on a hand written apology before coming to any more Wayne events. Some people….

There was a thump from the hallway and Bruce looked up to see a couple of waiters with a cart covered in trays of food, likely destined for the table in the ballroom.

“I’m fine,” he tried to reassure them. “You should probably get that to where it needs to go.”

“Are...are you…” One of the waiters pointed at Bruce. “Are you the kid? Bruce?”

“I’m...27 years old.” What kind of question was that? Besides, they tended to hire the same people for every event. Shouldn’t they know who he is?

Actually, they weren’t anywhere near the kitchen, or even the route they would need to take to get from the kitchen to the ballroom.

“Are you guys lost?” Bruce frowned. Either this was their first event and whoever had given them directions had completely failed at their jobs or… “Do you need help?”

“Help would be great,” said the waiter that had spoken before. “Let me just get…” He reached under the white tablecloth covering the cart. “Ah! Here it is!” He pulled out a gun.

Why was this Bruce’s life?

The other apparently-not-a-waiter had pulled out a gun too, presumably from the other side of the cart. Before either of them could get their guns aimed at him properly Bruce jumped behind the couch he had been sitting on for cover. He looked around for anything he could use to defend himself. Coffee table. Monet. Vase that did not date from the Ming dynasty like the gift giver had claimed but was actually a very good twentieth century reproduction. Bruce grabbed the vase.

“Come out from behind the couch with your hands up!”

The couch wasn’t that high and Bruce was bent down to keep himself behind it. He didn’t want to risk sticking his head up. He hefted the vase up. If they just kept talking….

“We’re going to have to go around and get him, aren’t we?”

“It looks like it. Hey kid! Come out and make this easy or we’re coming around!”

Footsteps started to approach from the left side of the couch. Bruce threw the vase over his head towards them. _Crash! Thud._

“Holy- Mattie!” Footsteps ran up to where the first not-waiter had collapsed.

Bruce didn’t have anything else convenient to throw. So with the guy distracted he threw himself at him. The other guy was thin and on the shorter side so Bruce easily pushed him over. They tumbled over each other as Bruce tried to grab the gun out of his hand. Bruce’s back suddenly slammed into something and the food cart toppled over with a clatter. They fell apart as a pile of eclairs fell on top of them. Thankfully, their sudden stop meant that the not-waiter had dropped the gun. They both reached out to grab it Only for another foot to come down on top of it.

“Bruce?” A man with light grey hair and a thick mustache stared down at them. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine Captain Gordon.” With the gun taken care of, Bruce threw himself on top of the other man to get him pinned down. “You should probably call your colleagues.”

“My daughter already ran off to take care of that.” Captain Gordon pulled on a pair of gloves then leaned down to pick up the gun. “When she gets back we can escort these men to a more secure room where they can wait to be taken down to the precinct.”

“Thank you,” Bruce said. The guy beneath him had finally stopped struggling and seemed to have accepted his fate. “You probably won’t have to deal with tackling gunmen anymore when you’re the Commissioner.”

“It’s not a guarantee that I’m going to be the new Commissioner.”

Bruce just hummed in response. Captain Gordon seemed to be the only person in the city who didn’t realize he was a shoe-in for the position when Commissioner Lewis retired at the end of April. Considering the work Captain Gordon had done cleaning up corruption in his own precinct, the GCPD would be better off for it.

The sound of footsteps preceded three people suddenly crowding through the door to the room. The first was a young woman who appeared to be around the same age as most of the first year students at Gotham University with bright orange hair. The next was another woman who was probably around Bruce and Harvey’s age with hair that was equally bright but red instead of orange. The third was Harvey Dent, who went over to Bruce as soon as they got in the room.

“Are you alright, buddy?”

“I’m fine.” Bruce got the feeling he would be saying that a lot.

The woman with orange hair went over to the other man, who was still lying unconscious on the ground. “At least they got taken down quickly. Help will be coming in ten minutes. I found Dent and Officer Riordan at the party. Security should be coming soon too.” The not-waiter started to stir and she reached out a hand to help him stand up. He looked around at the number of people present, his currently pinned down partner and groaned. The woman kept her hands on his arm to keep him from running.

Captain Gordon smiled. “Bruce, allow me to introduce my daughter, Barbara.”

“Considering the current situation, I’m Officer Gordon. But it is a pleasure to meet you. And shake your hand but…” She looked at the criminal she was holding.

The other woman walked over to Bruce. “I can take him off your hands. Officer Kate Riordan, by the way.”

Bruce stood up and allowed her to grab the gunman he had been holding. “Thank you. I believe I read about you in the paper. You caught the South Docks smuggling ring, right?”

Officer Riordan grinned. “That’s me! I’ve heard a lot about you from Harvey and I’m glad you’re alright.”

“One of the security officers said there’s another sitting room we can use to hold them until the squad cars arrive.” Officer Gordon said. “When they get here they’re going to want to take your statement as well.”

“I know. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

Captain Gordon had picked up the other gunman’s weapon. He snapped the safety on both of them. “Alright, let’s take these guys away and read them their rights.”

As Captain Gordon and the other police officers began taking the criminals away Harvey turned to Bruce. “I don’t understand how this keeps happening to you. You’re a doctor. Aren’t people supposed to like you? Meanwhile, I’m a lawyer and while I’ve received plenty of death threats, I’ve only had a gun pointed at me once. Guess when that was. Guess.”

“And yet you encourage his recklessness.” The two of them turned around to see David Jameson, Bruce’s bodyguard, had arrived. With his suit and his earpiece he looked like he was part of the secret service. His expression was that of someone who had seen this before and was not impressed. “What did I say about going off without letting anyone know where you are going?”

“I only needed to step out for a moment.”

“A moment.” Jameson gestured to the overturned cart and the finger food scattered across the floor. “A moment?”

“It was only going to be a moment.” Bruce reassured him. “I don’t need you to be watching over my shoulder all the time.”

“You are the heir to the largest fortune in the state, rivaled by only a few in the country. Your family gains business enemies and enemies with surprising objections to charitable work constantly. My job is to keep you safe but I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are. And something always happens.”

“Not everytime-”

“One day at a comic convention is the exception not the norm.” Jameson sighed. “I worry, okay? And not just because it’s my job. I am particularly stressed this evening because of everything that goes into these events. And we somehow still have security cracks big enough for gunmen to sneak in!”

“Don’t worry!” Said Harvey. “The district attorney’s office will make sure they don’t crash anymore parties.”

“Sure. I swear this city gets crazier all the time. I think one of those police officers I just saw was Kate Riordan. Wasn’t she responsible for that crazy sting operation on the South Docks gang last month? The things they let officers get away with these days…”

Harvey crossed his arms. “The only reason it came to that was because the precinct captain kept ignoring their activities even in the face of much greater evidence. She is a very competent officer.”

“Of course you’d like her methods. Your technique for solving crime in this city is to stir the pot recklessly and try to catch whatever boils up. One of these days someone will do more than send a death threat and throw a bunch of acid in your face.”

“That was weirdly specific. And my way is better than sitting around and waiting for something to happen. That is how all the criminal organizations based here in Gotham- more than any other city in the country by the way- are able to get away with everything so easily. Also, I should hope I get along with Kate. She’s here as my plus one.”

Jameson’s face went through a complicated series of expressions that managed to convey both his frustration and his horror. He eventually settled on an expression of disappointment he had definitely learned by copying Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. “You’re with Kate Riordan?”

“Not like that. We’re co-workers and good friends. I needed someone to come with me since I knew Bruce would be busy so she volunteered.”

Harvey had been one of Bruce’s closest friends since high school and Jameson had stuck close to Bruce since he was first hired after the rockclimbing-skylight incident. Even though he spent a lot of time with both of them he tried to not let them spend too much time together and this was why. He tried to subtly put himself between them. “It’s a good thing that there were police officers here tonight. They’ve been arrested and it was all taken care of quickly.”

Harvey smiled. “Yep! It was a good thing I brought Kate!” Jameson glowered but didn’t get the chance to object because at that moment Bruce’s parents showed up.

“Are you alright?” Martha had displaced Harvey and was now standing next to Bruce, while Thomas was on his other side.

“I’m fine. The Gordons and Officer Riordan already took them away.”

“We saw. But they didn’t hurt you?” Thomas asked.

“I’m _fine._ They didn’t hurt me.”

Thomas turned to Jameson. “Has there been any report from the other guards about how these guys got in?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Please let us know when there is. Or any other problems that come up.”

“Oh, I can think of some problems,” Jameson muttered, side-eyeing Harvey.

“I’m sorry,” Martha said. “I didn’t quite catch that. Could you repeat what you just said?”

Jameson blushed and turned to Martha. “No one who’s a high security risk. Just some people who are troublemakers.”

“Oh, like who?”

“Well, Officer Riordan, this one,” He gestured to Harvey. “Lois Lane is here on her father's behalf.”

“Oh that’s right!” Thomas turned to Bruce. “Have you had the chance to talk to your little sister yet?”

“She’s not my sister. She’s my cousin.” He hadn’t even known she was here (and technically they weren’t even _related_ at that). If he had, they could have broken aside from everyone to take a break from stubborn rich people and talk about whatever article she was currently working on. That would have been great and he wouldn’t have had a gun pointed at him. “If you keep calling her my sister the tabloids will eventually hear about it and then we’d never get any rest. I don’t think General Lane would be very happy either.”

“But you two are so much alike! You basically act like siblings already. Besides, I don’t believe anyone here is going to tell the press.”

Bruce decided to stop protesting. It was a losing battle anyway. The jokes about them being related had stuck since they were kids.

“Bruce,” Martha placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to stay for the rest of the event tonight. You can just go relax. But please let Jameson keep an eye on you.”

“I will. I need to stay here until the police arrive to give a statement but after that I’ll probably go upstairs.” He turned to Harvey. “Want to join me?”

“Sure thing! I can duck into the party and grab Lois, then we can have our own private party. No gunmen allowed!”

“I should hope not,” Jameson grumbled.

A private party sounded nice. Everything that had happened hadn’t changed how tired Bruce was with dealing with so many people. They could talk about Harvey’s work trying to clean up crime in Gotham and Lois’s efforts to get an interview with that “superman” who was flying around Metropolis. It would be a good way to spend the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here the next update is in the next work in this series


	7. Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's luck with guns finally runs out.  
> It's definitely a Tuesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the final instalment of the Divergence mini-series! If you'd like to read this story in chronological order, the issues go:-  
> Divergence: A Butterfly Flaps, Divergence: Vacation Astrayed, Divergence: Comic Con Rumbled (Parts 1 and 2), Divergence: Medicine Practiced, Divergence: It's Tuesday.  
> Followed by Stalemate's Centre Fight mini-series and culminating in this, Divergence: Shots.  
> Enjoy!

“Today is the first day of the rest of your lives. Tomorrow you will go out into the world to great accomplishments, to future careers, and to saving lives...Oh, why did I write that? That is such a cliche.” Bruce groaned and put his papers down in his lap.

“I don’t know. It’s true isn’t it?” Jameson was sitting next to Bruce in the backseat of the car they were in. Thomas and his usual bodyguard were sitting in the front.

“More like poking at death with a stick - how is this supposed to inspire a bunch of graduates? Why was I chosen to give this speech? I’m not good at public speaking.”

“But you can be.” Thomas called. “Remember the debate club when you were in high school?”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Look, Most of these kids are going to be so excited about graduating you could say anything and they’d appreciate it. Besides, the cliches are cliches because they’re good. The key thing is to project confidence. So long as you sound like you know what you’re talking about people will trust that you do.”

“That sounds like a con artist technique.”

“You’ll be fine. Remember to breathe. We’re here.”

Bruce sighed as Jameson and Charlie got out of the car. He shuffled his notes around. As cliche as they were he didn’t have the time to change them now. After the bodyguards had taken a quick look around, Thomas and Bruce also got out.

When they came up to the entrance a man with dark hair and light brown skin was waiting for them. “Thomas! It’s good to see you. And young Bruce! I’m so glad you agreed to come speak today. I would have asked old Dr. Munro but she had a conference in Central City. Besides, I’m pretty sure they want to hear from someone closer to their own age. Do you have your speech ready?”

“I do...It’s not the best but-”

“Don’t worry they’ll love it.”

Thomas smiled and shook his hand. “I’m glad you invited us Professor. It is an honour.”

The two older doctors continued talking as they made their way up to the stage. Bruce tried not to look at the large crowd that was filling up the open air amphitheatre that the graduation ceremony for the graduates of Gotham University Medical School was being held in. It was far bigger than any class he ever taught. This would be a lot easier if he wasn’t suddenly having doubts about every sentence of the speech he had written.

The speeches and reviews and other miscellaneous things that occur during these sorts of ceremonies passed in a blur. Mainly because Bruce decided that his high score of Bounce on his XOver needed to be beaten as a distraction from his upcoming train wreck of a speech. Maybe that pulling feeling in his gut that told him something was about to go horribly wrong would finally let up. Instinct had served him brilliantly well so far (both in a medical setting and in, well, a setting in which he nearly got shot) but at this second? It was doing nothing but driving him to distraction.

And then they were calling him up.

All the students were staring up at Bruce, waiting expectantly. Bruce could do this. It would be fine. He cleared his throat and started speaking. “Today is the first day of the rest of your lives…”

“Get down!”

Bruce barely had time to turn and catch a glimpse of a teenage boy charging at him. The boy tackled him and they both crashed to the ground.

_ BANG _

Screams filled the auditorium. Bruce tried to shift the boy off of him but stopped when his hand hit something wet.  _ Oh god. _

“Bruce!” He looked up to see Jameson leaning over him. “Are you alright? Charles is calling the police and an ambulance.”

“Don’t just move him.” Thomas leaned over next to him. “That’s a gunshot wound. Let me look at it. Bruce, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Bruce craned his head trying to get a look around the body on top of him. “What’s going on?”

“Jameson and Charlie are securing the area. Professor Lee-Scott is calling the cops. I can get him off of you and we can get him to the hospital in one moment. I just need to make sure that bullet didn’t travel up into the pelvis.” Thomas conducted a quick examination. The screams had died down some as either someone got the crowd under control or the crowd had all run off. “Okay. Looks like it hit him in the bulk of his left vastus muscles. I can’t tell if any major ligaments or arteries have been hit. Move him- carefully- off of Bruce and on the ground. Did anyone recover the bullet? I found an exit wound.”

As the boy was lifted off of Bruce, he let out a low moan. “It’s alright,” said Thomas. “We’re going to get you taken care of. The ambulance is on its way.”

The boy suddenly began to struggle. “No- I can’t-”

“Kid. Calm down. If you keep moving like that you’ll-”

“I can’t go to a hospital!”

“It’s alright. The Wayne foundation will take care of the bill-”

“I can’t! They’ll find me!”

The boy was really struggling now. Thomas and a couple of other people tried to hold him down to attempt applying pressure to the wounds but he was thrashing around too much for them to do anything. Bruce stood up, distantly surprised that he was able to stand without shaking. He made his way over and joined the other doctors leaning over the boy. He couldn’t get a clear view of the injury with all the thrashing.

“Please calm down! You’re just injuring yourself more!”

“I can’t!”

“Dad,” Bruce placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “Is there somewhere we can treat him that isn’t the hospital.”

“Well, there are some clinics but the hospital has the best resources for treating a gunshot wound.”

“He’s not going to go to a hospital without fighting us and aggravating it. If we can find another place we can treat him more easily and he shouldn’t injure himself more.”

“You’re probably right…” Thomas turned back to the young man. “We can take you to a clinic. You’re going to be fine.”

“Don’t take me- don’t take me anywhere they can find me-” The boy stopped thrashing around for a moment but his eyes continued to dart round, trying to see what was going on. Bruce had seen a lot of scared people before. People who were scared for themselves, or for their loved ones. The boy’s eyes were wide and he looked around as though he was expecting someone to jump their group on the stage at any moment. He was terrified.

It was just now starting to register in Bruce’s brain that he had jumped in front of a bullet for him. He had gotten up on stage in time to get in the way of the bullet. He had somehow known this was coming and put himself at extreme risk to stop it. Bruce didn’t even know him. He didn’t look like any of his patients.

If he had known this was going to happen…

“He knows the people who just tried to kill me.”

Thomas swung around to stare at Bruce. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Think about it! To rush up on stage like that he had to have known what would happen when- when no one else did. Security didn’t see anything until-” Bruce realised he was breathing quickly and tried to take a few deep breaths. “He doesn’t want to go to a hospital because he would be recognised and someone would find him. He wouldn’t be this scared unless whomever is looking for him is dangerous. Dangerous enough to-”

“Dangerous enough to kill,” Thomas finished. “Dammit! You’re right. Until the police get the shooter and figure out what’s going on we can’t take him anywhere well known that people would look. But those are all the places that have the ability to care of this kind of injury. Unless…”

The sound of footsteps came pounding up behind him. “Dr. Wayne!” Charlie came to a halt next to Thomas. “We can’t find where the shooter was or where they could have gone. They probably left after they took the shot but we can’t be sure. For your safety, everyone should get out of the open areas. The police will be here in a couple minutes. Also, I found the round.” He held up a zip-lock bag with the evidence inside it. Thomas’ eyes narrowed.

“That’s a 9x39mm, haven’t seen one of those since I served with General Lane…” He nodded firmly and snapped, “Charlie, we need to leave. And we’re taking that young man with us. Make sure to hand that over to forensics.”

“What? An ambulance was called and-”

“He can’t go in the ambulance. You can move him once he’s calmed down some but be careful. He’s aggravated his injuries enough.” Thomas crouched back down next to the young man. “It’s going to be alright. We aren’t going to a hospital, we’re going to someplace private. Just stay calm. You’ll be fine.”

One of the other doctors tried to ask what Thomas was doing but he had already stood up and gone back to Bruce. “I need to make some calls to organise this. We’re going to have to give our statements to the police later, which they aren’t going to be happy about. Are you doing alright Bruce?”

“I’m fine. I’m not the one who was shot!”

“Okay. I need you to look after the boy for now and for most of the ride back. I’d rather not transport him so far but we need to make a plan now and I don’t have any other ideas. Can you do that?”

“Sure. But where are we going?”

“Home. To the manor. It’s private, I can call some people to get us equipment, and we’ve got the space to set something up. And if your theory is right about him being connected to the shooter it would be good to get him somewhere isolated. Now Charlie, where is the car?” Thomas turned away and began making arrangements.

Bruce took a deep breath and sank down next to the boy bleeding on the ground. He had calmed down a bit after Thomas had told him they were going someplace private but he was still tense and his eyes kept flickering around. Various medical professionals were on hand to triage in preparation to minimise bleeding before operation.

And then Alfred showed up.

It wasn’t often that Bruce forgot that Alfred Pennyworth had been the best damn emergency responder NATO had seen, but seeing it in action was truly  _ something _ . He started by hurrying anyone who wasn’t actively doing something out of there so that they all had more space to work. He had brought a giant bag of supplies with him, so was able to quickly and efficiently bandage the wound.

Within a few minutes, someone had rolled over a collapsible gurney and Bruce found himself helping Jameson get the boy on to it. As they carried him down to the front entrance of the amphitheatre, Bruce noticed that most of the audience had gotten out of there. They probably didn’t want to hang around. When they reached the car Alfred directed them to roll the gurney across the back seat. Alfred got in with him, sitting on the floor of the car next to him. Monitoring the boy's vitals. Thomas was already sitting in the driver’s seat so Bruce climbed into the front passenger seat. Then he realised something.

“Charlie and Jameson-”

“They’ll talk to the police and get home later,” Thomas said. Then he slammed down on the accelerator.

They definitely broke a few traffic laws on the way back to the manor. When Bruce shot Thomas an alarmed look after they cut across several lanes of downtown Gotham traffic, he shrugged. “We don’t have sirens and we can afford to pay the fines. It’s okay.”

“It won’t be okay if we get into an accident on the way!”

“You’re one to talk with how you drove as a teenager!”

They  _ somehow _ made it back to Wayne Manor without any incident. As the car pulled to a stop, Bruce sprung out of the car and helped Alfred carry the collapsible gurney inside, while Thomas ran ahead.

“They should have set up in one of the ground floor guest rooms- ah ha! Bring him in here!”

The bed had been pushed to the side to make space for an operating table. A set of clean surgical tools was resting on the nightstand. Bruce and Alfred got the boy onto the operating table as Thomas started pulling out some gloves. 

“Okay, the bandaging was good but I want to look at this to make sure it’s fine. Alfred, I could use your help in here. Bruce,” Thomas sighed. “Why don’t you take some rest. We can take it from here. I’ve already called Martha.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me?”

“We’ll be fine.”

Bruce hesitated a bit before leaving the room. He wanted to make sure the boy was okay, but his father was one of the best surgeons in Gotham. “Alright.”

“I need to get some more gloves,” said Alfred. “I’ll be back in one moment”

Alfred followed Bruce out of the room. Bruce realised he was breathing heavily again. It was hard to believe everything that had just happened.

“The boy will be fine. Why don’t you sit down?” He gestured to an old armchair that someone had left in the hallway. It had probably been moved out of the guest room. “You’ve had a long day.”

“Yeah…” Bruce sighed. For the first time he actually let his mind cast back over the course of the day. Everything had happened so fast. Guns had been pointed at Bruce a number of times at this point but he hadn’t even seen where the bullet had come from. It had just… “Alfred, I could have died today.”

“But you didn’t. And the young man who saved your life will survive also. Your mother will be home soon. Do you want anything else before I go back in there?”

“No, I…” Bruce slumped down into the chair. “I think I just need to sit here for a while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next issue of the Renegade-Verse will be available on the 8th or 9th of August continuing on the Stalemate!


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